The Confession
by nerd.in.the.tardis
Summary: Sherlock struggling with a realization. Lots of Johnlock cuteness.


It was a normal day in the flat of Sherlock and John. Well, as normal as it gets around there. Sherlock hadn't had a case in weeks, so of course he was keeping busy with experiments. John was up for his morning run around the block. When he got back, he found Sherlock sitting on the couch, deep in thought.

"Good morning, Sherlock," the doctor said.

"Hmmpf," a pause, "oh, John. Good morning. I see you were out for your morning run," Sherlock responded, trying to hide the lust under his breath. He wasn't usually attracted to men, but John, all hot and sweaty, just turned him on.

"Hardly a difficult deduction, Sherlock,"

"Genius takes time, and it's early."

John chuckled. Sherlock was making excuses; something must be on his mind. "Alright, alright. Well, I'm going to jump in the shower, be out in 20."

Sherlock sighed. John had been driving him mad lately. It's all because he started running in the morning. Sherlock liked a lot of things about his army doctor, but this was something he lusted over. All he knew was that John couldn't know. If John found out he liked him, Sherlock would certainly find himself living alone. He remembered when Mycroft had accidentally told John about how Sherlock was gay. Sherlock didn't speak to either of them for three weeks, and even now he is a little miffed.

John took that exact moment to walk out of the shower. A towel wrapped around his waist and his hair pushed back with his hand. Sherlock could feel the hard on in his pants. And of course, John decided to reach for something on top of the cabinet and his towel fell off. It just fell right onto the floor. Sherlock tried not to look but it was too late. Of course, Sherlock already deduced John had a big cock, it was obvious with the chaffing on his pants and his hand size, but it was still weird to see. John's dick was at least 7 inches and quite thick. Sherlock gasped. John had already picked the towel up and was trying to put it on while keeping the freeze dried fingers from falling.

Red in the face, John said with an embarrassed smile, "Sorry you had to see that, not that you should've minded."

Sherlock just blinked like he had something in his eye. He had this confused look plastered on his face and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get it off.

John went redder, if that was even possible. He stammered, barely audible, "Al- all right, well I- I'm going to g- go change. Bye Sherlock."

Sherlock just sat there, in his room, looking at the celling, thinking about John and what happened earlier. He was gay, he already knew that, but was he gay for _John. _Maybe he was just sexually frustrated, wouldn't be the first time. But Sherlock was pretty sure that was just wishful thinking. There was something more, some sentiment. He felt the need to impress John, to make John love him. He didn't understand it.

He remembered the day Mycroft deduced his feelings for the army doctor. Sherlock didn't believe his, of course, but it stuck in his mind, etched a place in his mind. He couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it. It was too risky. John was his best friend, and you're not supposed to love your best friend. That's why their best friends, not boyfriends. You know, now that Sherlock thought of it, the whole gay thing wasn't natural. Mycroft supported it, obviously, he _was_ gay. And look how happy he was with Lestrade. But this was different, this was _John_.

"John," Sherlock shouted. He couldn't do this. He couldn't live with this. Sherlock felt like there was this huge weight in the room. Sherlock had to tell John.

Sherlock heard a knock. It was John. "Sherlock, is everything alright?"

Sherlock laughed a little. That was John, the overprotective doctor. "Yes John, I just have to tell you something."

He heard the door open, and saw John standing in front of the closed door, looking kind of uncomfortable. "What is it you had to tell me, Sherlock?"

Sherlock sighed and looked straight into John's eyes. All the confidence he had gathered in the hours he stared at that celling vanished. He couldn't do it. He could hear his brain _screaming_ to tell him, tell John and everything will be better, but his mouth wouldn't move. He couldn't tell him if his life depended on it. And it did too, at least his sane life did.

"Nothing, never mind," Sherlock said.

John sighed and sat next to Sherlock. "Sherlock, you can tell me. I promise you I wont be mad."

"oh, but you will John. You can hardly promise something when you don't even know what it is," Sherlock said with a huffy two year-old tone.

John exhaled and started subbing Sherlock's back in a soft, circular motion. "Sherlock, please," he was begging now, only because he knew if Sherlock didn't tell him, John's brain would wander to dark and mysterious places.

Suddenly, Sherlock couldn't hold it in anymore, and it burst out. "I love you, John. I love the way your hair looks in the morning. I love the way you oversleep and blame me. I love the way you keep a diary on your computer, and more importantly, how you think I don't know. I love the way you insist on calling Lestrade Greg, even though that's not his name. I love all your mannerisms and habbits. But most of all, I love the way your name feels on my tongue. I love you, John. I'm sorry, but I love you." A single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Oh, Sherlock," John said with a smile. John took this time to wipe the tear off Sherlock's cheek. "Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock. I love you too. I love you so much."

Sherlock could feel the massive smile creeping on his face. Sherlock just hugged John. He hugged John and didn't intend to let go.

They ended up laying on Sherlock's bed hugging. Sherlock spooning John until he fell asleep. When Sherlock woke, he just sat there smelling John's hair and loving the fact that he could. He could love John.


End file.
